


Enjolras

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Series: Les Amis Appreciation [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Mentions of Panic Attacks, POV Enjolras, Past commitment issues, Pining Enjolras, Possibly Unrequited Love, Regret, Sad throughout, Slow Dancing, Weddings, failed romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: Enjolras is at Grantaire’s wedding but he’s not the groom.
Relationships: (background), Enjolras & Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Grantaire/Jean Prouvaire
Series: Les Amis Appreciation [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025112
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Enjolras

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for my crappy writing umph
> 
> 'Aight so I wrote about obsession and jealousy, and now I'm here with the fic of unrequited love yayyy

There have been moments in life when Enjolras felt like he was drowning. The air would turn thick and heavy and his fingers would freeze. As his breathing quickened, tears would run heavily down his eyes. They were called ‘moments’ since his negative thoughts would gradually pass. After breathing properly again, he would feel weightless, wondering why he felt he was being dragged down in the first place.

When he looked at how happy Grantaire was, with his lop-sided smile and his large black eyes, Enjolras believed he would never recover. Closely, he could observe how excited Grantaire was to marry- how much he loved the man who stood in front of him.  
Enjolras watched on, feeling imprisoned. He wasn’t the groom. It was Jehan. A caring, poetic, intelligent man. He held his breath as he watched, begging not to cry. Chains trapped him as he was forced to look on to the one he loved marry another. He was finally being drowned. For good.

Thinking back, there were many opportunities in which Enjolras could have conserved their relationship. Due to their frequent arguments he had always believed that their relationship was doomed. That, maybe, a couple months after their breakup, he would have forgotten how euphoric Grantaire made him feel. How _safe_ he had felt with him. Something only a handful of people were able to do.  
However it had been years and Enjolras constantly felt as if his heart was punctured with holes, blood leaking out of his chest.

In this scenario, it was impossible to not think about ‘what if’s. Only if Enjolras had ran to Grantaire and hugged him, whispering love and comfort into his ear. Or if he had held his hand, allowing him to lean his head on his shoulder whenever he was sad. Or to share a blanket and watch television as they shared more alone time together. Instead none of that happened. Enjolras was preoccupied by politics and protests while Grantaire was left alone, even when he texted him to be by his side. It seemed to be a pattern that Enjolras was always absent. He had read the texts, he had understood his boyfriend’s expressions, but there was always that faint fear. The darkness grasping at his chest- the fear that he would have to always take care of him, that they were diving into a deeper relationship. If he were to continuously fall, how hard would he hit the ground?

Looking back it was all so simple. Any arguments they shared were stupid and illogical. All he had to do was to remind Grantaire how he made him feel. How, for example, he heard music in his ears whenever their eyes met, and whenever he heard a love song, he would imagine Grantaire in his mind. All those little things which built the foundation of their relationship was hidden due to Enjolras’ fear of commitment.

Now, he watched the love of his life marry someone else and take the leap of an eternity of love together.

As Grantaire ran down the aisle with his husband, there was a brief moment when their eyes met. Grantaire didn’t notice anything. He didn’t blame him. How could anyone see an expression for a fraction of a second and understand the complex self-torture he felt?

After the congratulating, Enjolras followed the crowd which led him to the hall where people were dancing. Rather than joining in, he watched on. He didn’t see the appeal of dancing. It was a sign of expression but Enjolras had always preferred speaking instead. Joining in didn’t matter anyway as he didn’t have a partner. He came alone.

“Look who it is,” A voice called from behind.  
Hoping his misty eyes weren’t obvious, he turned around, “If it isn’t the street girl, Éponine. How’s life treating you?”  
“Terribly.” She held out her hand. “Want to dance?”  
He shook his head. “You know I don’t like to dance.”  
She pouted. “That’s not what you said when you were drunk.”  
“It was _one_ time.” Anger bubbled up to his throat. He knew full well what she was referring to. It was after Grantaire asked out Jehan- his future husband. That night he was deep in the darkness of despair and jealousy, he drank and drank and drank. In retrospect it seemed Enjolras was the last obstacle he had to overcome in order to meet his true love. 

“Relax. We’re like sisters, remember? I wouldn’t say anything in hopes of actually pissing you off.”  
He knew Éponine often gave out implication which betrayed her intention, so he trusted her statement.  
She sighed as she fought a battle in her head in whether she should reveal something. “You know Grantaire has been looking at you quite a lot.”  
“What?” His heart dropped. A part of him wanted this to be what it sounded like. Desperately- so desperately- he wanted to run away with him. But he knew that was not the reality and as soon as he would realise the proper truth, his heart would be stomped on. Again. Because of course Grantaire didn’t love him back. Not anymore at least.

“I thought you stopped being a pathological liar, Éponine.”  
“No, I mean it.” She reached out for his hand and delicately held it, “Whether you like it or not, Grantaire loves you and cares for you. That’s why he invited you to the wedding even though he knew…” Her voice faded. “I had too much to drink.” She muttered.  
Knowing what she truly meant, Enjolras picked up a champagne bottle from a nearby table and gave it to her. “Drink as much as you want.” He whispered. “You’re not paying for anything.”  
Light returned to her eyes as she snatched the bottle from his hand and walked away, not afraid to take a swig as she aimlessly wandered off.

Enjolras watched her leave. There was nothing interesting about her since he had known her for years but he didn’t want to look back. He knew behind him there were people dancing, including Grantaire and his new husband. If he were to turn around he could either find out that Grantaire was staring at him or that he was staring at his groom. Either way the outcome would remain the same. Enjolras would feel heartbreak.  
His breathing quickened- he needed air.

Like a drunkard, he stumbled outside, back to where he saw Grantaire get married. Feeling like no one else was looking, Enjolras let out an exhale of grief and pain. He slapped his mouth with his hand as he watched his vision blur. The world grew colder and colder as he almost fell against the wall. He wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. It was so unfair. This could have been his future. He was selfish and ignorant in the past. Sometimes he was neglectful. Their relationship disintegrated not because of Grantaire’s lack of love or devotion, but because of Enjolras' own faults. He found it difficult to mirror his acts of love. That didn’t mean he loved him less- not by a long shot. But he knew that was how Grantaire perceived it…

He wiped away his tears and tried to calm his breathing. Just like he practised with Cosette. She even predicted how he was going to feel and advised him not to go. In all angles and perspectives she was correct. Enjolras couldn’t even explain why he wanted to attend. Perhaps there was a little parasite of hope eating away at his flesh. All he had to do was object and grab Grantaire by the hand and run away. It played out in his head so many times, even ritualistically. Logic would be bent and love would strike Grantaire through his heart and they would be together once more. That would then be the last time they would be together because they would get married, buy a house, start a family- no breakup. All he had to do was speak up; but he didn’t.

Enjolras felt a warm hand on his back and he yelped. As he turned around, he could see Grantaire’s eyes sparkle with his permanent grin in his face. Even though his affection was not requited, Enjolras genuinely smiled back.  
“What are you doing here?” Grantaire almost sung.  
He didn’t want to answer that. “Why are you here?”  
“I saw you walk out.” He shrugged.  
Shit. There it was again. That lie that Grantaire loved him.  
“Hey,” Grantaire leaned in, “I know you don’t like dancing, but,” He held out his hand, “I promise I’ll talk to you the whole way through it.”  
Enjolras looked down at his hand. Then back up at his face. Taking a deep breath, he took it.

Returning back inside, Enjolras could sense the stares although his vision betrayed his gut feeling as he failed to spot anyone glancing at them.  
Elegantly, Grantaire pulled him in as they swayed with the music.  
Enjolras tried to joke. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without an alcohol in hand.”  
“Not true.” He pouted, “When I was dating you I drank less.”  
For some reason Grantaire acknowledging their past so casually caused a spike through his heart. He shouldn’t have accepted the offer to dance. It was too painful. “Why did you invite me to the wedding?”  
“Because… I… I know it’s awkward. Having dated you and all that.”  
“You think?” Enjolras tried to conceal how fast his heart was beating.  
“You’re really important to me, Enjolras. Just like Jehan. Just like Combeferre. Just like Courfeyrac. Just like- you get the point.”  
“I do.”  
Grantaire’s eyes immediately shot up and met his. He then gave out a broken chuckle. “Yeah. You do.”  
He didn’t have enough time to figure out what he meant.

“Excuse me.” It was Jehan with his eyes never leaving Grantaire. He wore the purest smile.  
He imagined if he used to smile that much. He should have... “Right.” Enjolras cleared his throat and stepped away.  
“Thank you.” Grantaire stared at him with sincerity.  
With a quick bow, Enjolras left them.

It was too much. He was only there because of an invitation. Now he had spoken to Grantaire, he was ready to leave. It was already too much interaction.  
He had no idea where he was headed; he just wanted to get away.

Nearby he could hear the waves roar faintly from afar. The smell of the salt reached his nose. It was unfamiliar. It was due to the feeling of foreign environment which drew him to the seaside. He had hoped that once the setting was alien, it would cancel out the odd feeling he felt within him. Hopefully he wouldn’t feel so strange… He walked over to a fence and climbed over it. Careful in his steps, he walked down the piles of stones until he reached the sea. The waves felt violent and the sound of the water felt unwelcoming yet Enjolras felt free. The air seemed so light here…

“Enjolras!” Grantaire called from behind, failing to climb the fence properly. “I said ‘wait’ like a million times. You’re stuck in your head again!”  
Instinctively Enjolras climbed back up to make sure he didn’t hurt himself and helped him land on his feet. Once he was sure Grantaire was safe, he asked, “Why did you follow me?”  
Grantaire held his cheeks in his hands, his voice shaky, “You. You’re important. Now, why are you here? It smells all salty.”  
Enjolras touched his hands, smiling, then coldly removed his hands away from his face, “You have to go back to be with Jehan.” Enjolras walked back down the pile of rocks.  
Grantaire briefly looked back to the Church before following him. “Jehan understands me. He’ll get why I followed you.”  
“And why’s that, R? How do you know he'll "get" you?”  
Grantaire shrugged, “I… I…” His eyebrows furrowed. “He understands me.”  
Enjolras’ eyes turned teary as he faced Grantaire. He wanted to say he understood him too, and more than Jehan ever would. But that was selfish. That was the old him.

Grantaire misunderstood why Enjolras was tearing up. “I care about you too.”  
“Not like you do with Jehan.” He tried to make his voice sound neutral, not weighed down by misery.  
“Of course not!”

The waves replaced their voices as the two stared at each other. They both possessed different emotions: Grantaire’s eyes showed sympathy while Enjolras’ reflected regret. After all the years of knowing each other, they knew exactly what the other was feeling.  
“Enjolras…” Grantaire stepped forward, worried, “Do you… Love me?”  
His blue eyes widened in shock, his heart racing. He was overwhelmed. Enjolras felt like he could cry, not that it was new. Life hated him, he was sure. Life absolutely wanted his heart to be stomped on. He briefly thought of the possibility that lay before him: if he were to say he did love him, there would still be a chance to run away with him, hold his hand, watch the sunset. Kiss. All of that was possible if he said that simple word. Confidence rose in him. Enjolras stepped forward, mimicking Grantaire. He breathed out as if he was internally collapsing. “No.” His voice was hoarse.

Deep down he knew what he had thought of was just all wishful thinking. He didn’t want to live off of a parallel universe of what-ifs and he definitely didn’t want Grantaire to go through the same torture which plagued him for years.

Grantaire nodded. “Of course not.” He thought for a moment. “Come. The wedding’s not over yet.” He held out his hand.  


After taking a deep breath, he took it.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was supposed to end after Grantaire asks him if he loves him. Then Chapter 2 would be about what if he said ‘yes’, and Chapter 3 is what if he said ‘no’. But you know me: giving up is in my blood.


End file.
